


Miller's Worst Day Ever

by crystalkei



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 21:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4803254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalkei/pseuds/crystalkei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miller stumbles upon something that will scar him, then the day just keeps getting worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miller's Worst Day Ever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flonkertons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flonkertons/gifts).



> This story takes place after the events of Something To Hold Onto but can stand alone without any knowledge of that story.

Miller was about to have the worst day ever.

He woke up feeling pretty good. It was a little overcast outside which was perfect because he’d been wishing he had a pair of sunglasses the last few days with bright cloudless week they’d had. Turns out sunglasses weren’t something to be found around Camp Jaha but he could at least appreciate the imposition. God knows a year ago he never even thought he’d need a pair in his lifetime. His Dad gave him a hug before he went off to his shift. It was kind of weird and he was still getting used to his dad being so concerned (he’d never been a hugging parent,) but he supposed all this being on Earth stuff really fucked with the guy. Miller couldn’t blame him, so he indulged his father, even if he was a little surprised every time it happened.

Breakfast wasn’t even worth complaining about. Just yesterday, a group returned with a shit ton of animals from a successful hunt. There was meat along with the Ark typical grain mash they were still using to supplement meals. He found a spot next to Monty and did his best not to get too close. Miller had game but he was reserved. The time wasn’t right yet and he wasn’t exactly sure if Monty was into him so a few seconds of knee on knee contact towards the end of the meal was all he managed but he felt a little smile pulling at the corner of his lips when Monty didn’t move and actually rolled his eyes at whatever that idiot Jasper was talking about.

But the day went downhill quickly after breakfast.

Bellamy and Clarke were walking back to Bellamy’s tent after breakfast, so Miller held back a few minutes. In the weeks since they’d come back from their adventure to find the part Raven needed, they were noticeably attached at the hip most of the time. Miller expected this to happen at some point, even had the pool up and going but when everyone was captured by Mount Weather, when all that shit with grounder alliances and Finn’s death happened, when Clarke walked away from the camp, Miller wondered if she’d ever come back and if they’d ever get their shit together. He was happy to be proven wrong, but he was also smart enough to keep his distance.

When she exited the tent, hair slightly ruffled, he felt safe to pop in and talk to Bellamy. He stood by the front of the tent, Bellamy’s was obviously getting redressed and Miller shook his head.   
  
“Don’t,” Bellamy said without turning around.

Miller sifted through the stack of books on the makeshift desk. “Wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“That’s why we’re friends,” Bellamy responded, finally decent. “What’d you need?”

“Just passing time until my shift at the west gate starts.” He opened a book with a green cover and flipped through it.

“Came to hang out with me instead of Monty?”

“Man,” he said, drawing out the word to show his annoyance. “I didn’t push you, now you’re gonna push me?”

Bellamy laughed. “So he had an early shift then, okay.”

Miller gave him the finger before opening another book.

“How many of these did you bring back?” he held up the book and Bellamy shrugged.

“I dunno, too many according to some people,” Bellamy muttered.

“You know how many and she’s mad at you over some books?” Miller asked with a raised eyebrow.

“What did you need again?” Bellamy huffed just as Miller turned the page on a well worn book. “Hand me that one, all the nuance will be lost on you.”

Miller tilted his head to glare at him. He turned a page, intending to read aloud the first sentence to make a point but he stopped when he saw a doodle of a naked woman in the top margin above the printed words. It was a fresh sketch, done in pencil, the woman was turned, facing the side of the page, her hair was curly and her breasts were huge and…”Jesus Christ,” he breathed. He turned the page quickly to try to escape what he’d seen but the next page was worse, each page he turned was worse, a progression of the woman leaning over the man, a curly haired man with freckles, the man standing in front of him. A normal person might have shut the book and thrown it across the tent, but Miller’s brain was so distraught by what he was seeing he just kept turning pages hoping to outrun the images.

After what seemed like never ending pages of dirty sketches of people he knew in the midst of a sexual act, Bellamy grabbed the book and hid it behind his back. Miller just stood there, his jaw dropped for half a second before his whole body shivered.

“I gotta go,” he managed to get out.

“Good plan,” Miller heard Bellamy say as he bolted from the tent.

Once he was a solid 25 yards from Bellamy’s tent he scrubbed at his face. He took a deep breath and decided to go back to his tent. That would solve this. Just hide out there for a while. Miller looked back to Ark, threw his head back and groaned. He had to go to work.

Okay, okay this was manageable. He could be distracted at work. Except the West Gate was barely used. They called it the “jack off gate” because everyone knew it was a safe place to get your rocks off while on shift because no one was ever out there.

“Miller!” Clarke yelled from across the square. “We need you in a scheduling meeting!”

He froze and tried not to look at her. Miller went so far as to cover his eyes with his hand pretending to be rubbing something out of his eye.

“Gotta go relieve someone at the West Gate,” he shouted back, he moved his hand and saw that Clarke was walking towards him. Miller needed to escape quickly because there was no way he could look at Clarke without having some kind of traumatic flashback. Turning on his heels he briskly headed to the back of the camp. Behind him he heard Clarke speak to presumably Bellamy.

“That was weird, why’d he run like that?”

“No idea, we can do the thing without him, he’s got a shift anyways.”

Despite the intense awkwardness, Miller made a mental note to thank Bellamy for not telling Clarke why he ran from her. No one needed to know besides the two of them. Clarke certainly didn’t need to know. Miller was almost home free, just another tent or two and he would be outside of the areas where groups of people clumped and socialized. Just one more...he bumped into someone. Someone who threw him off balance and Miller almost fell backwards until a pair of hands grabbed his arms and steadied him.

“Hey, you look a little sick,” Monty said, Great. Of all the people to literally run into.

“M’fine, uh, gonna be late for my shift.” He sidestepped Monty but Monty wasn’t going to let him off that easy. If he were in any other state of mind, Miller would be flattered, he’d maybe flirt a little, but instead he just wanted to get away.

“Are you sure? I can get Clarke-”

Miller cut him off with a much too loud “no!” and cringed at his own response. “I just need to get to the West Gate, I’ll talk to you later.”

“What about Bellamy?”

“Hell no!” he yelled over his shoulder as he again took off for the West Gate. Monty looked confused and it made Miller feel bad. He stopped in his retreat. “I’m really okay, but if you insist on someone checking on me, you come by when you have a minute.”

Monty gave him a small smile and possibly blushed, Miller wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to get his hopes up. It could have just been a trick of the light. Monty nodded and said he’d meet him later, Miller returned the smile and then, finally, headed for the gate.

He sat and he sat and he hated the shift he was stuck in. Nothing to do, nothing to keep his mind off what he’d seen earlier. And because he didn’t want to think about it, of course, the drawings flashed in his mind over and over again. It was just a four hour shift but he swore he’d been sitting on the stool in the little shack for 84 years.

“Hey,” Monty’s voice startled Miller and he almost fell off the stool he was perched on. Miller managed to stop himself from falling by bracing his arms against the walls on either side of him. “Okay, so I still think there’s something wrong with you. You aren’t usually that clumsy, even around me,” Monty said and Miller was pretty sure that was a flirtatious dig. He vaguely forgot about his terrible morning for a second as he snorted at the comment and watched Monty’s cute smile.

“I, uh,” Miller looked away and smiled embarrassed. “That’s not, I’m not clumsy.”

“So what’s got you falling off chairs and bumping into me, my hair does look really good today but it can’t be that.” Okay yes, Monty was definitely flirting with him. Miller ran his tongue across his teeth, a smirk settling on his face, until he blinked and saw one of Clarke’s dirty pictures behind his eyelids. He shuddered and Monty took another step towards him looking concerned. Miller put out his hand to wave him off.

“I’m fine.”  
  
“Yeah, I can see that,” Monty deadpanned.

“It’s embarrassing and I can’t get the picture out of my mind.” Miller scrunched up his face but that just made it worse. He saw sketch after sketch and he started to shake his head. “I saw a bunch of drawings that Clarke drew of her giving Bellamy a blow job and I’m repulsed. I think I might actually puke.”

Monty reeled back a second, his hands covering his mouth and nose and shaking his head quickly just like MIller had done a few seconds before.

“Oh my god,” he said. “I’m sorry I asked. No wonder you’re all weird. Clarke’s a really talented artist I bet they were really graphic.”   
  
“They were, it was so bad, Monty. I can’t look either of them in the eye.” Miller was still feeling gross about it but he felt a little better having gotten it off his chest.

“But you have to do the thing, there’s a meeting...for the council thing, there’s a delinquents meeting!” Miller groaned. Since the mountain fell the remaining delinquents formed a sort of club. Kane and Abby Griffin and the council were still running the camp, but since Clarke left they’d invited Bellamy to sit on the council and he was pushing hard for the kids to be included in lots of things to help. Bellamy would hear their complaints, he’d listen to ideas, and he’d take it all to the council. Tonight was going to be the first meeting since Clarke came back. It was kind of a big deal.

“No, I can skip it. I can say I’m sick, you thought I was sick, shit, they’ll believe it,” Miller said, running a hand over his hair. “I can’t go. I can’t!”

“Can I say I’m sick, too?” Monty asked. Miller shrugged.

“Sorry I exposed you to this, but at least you didn’t actually see the things I saw.”   
  
“You should talk to Bellamy. Maybe that will help?” Monty suggested.

“How the fuck does that help?” Miller asked confused.

“I don’t know. But you can’t avoid him and Clarke forever, so maybe talking is good?”

“I think in this case talking would be the exact opposite of good.” Miller

You can assure him you won't tell Clarke about this if he can run interference with her so you don't have to see her much? She's been hiding out in his tent since she got back anyways.

"Okay so the idea is that I tell Bellamy I won't let Clarke know what I saw but I need him to run interference so I don't have to see Clarke more than abso-fucking-lutely necessary, is that right?"   
  
"Yeah, that's what I'm saying."   
  
"Right, I can look vaguely in his direction for long enough to relay that info."   
  
"See, good plan?"   
  
"God, I hope so." Miller scrubbed at his face, psyching himself up. "If this works i'm gonna kiss you."   
  
"Because it's a good plan or...?"  
  
"Shit, I said that aloud." It wasn't a question and Monty smiled. "You know why, I gotta fix this thing first and then I'll handle you...I mean then I'll, oh for fuck's sake." He should have stayed in bed this morning. Monty just hummed and shrugged, his adorable slight smile had Miller working to not smile back.   
  
"Their tent is that way," Monty finally said jolting Miller into action. He nodded to himself and with Monty on his heels started in the right direction.   
  
"I need-" Miller should have stopped outside. He should have announced himself. He  _should_  have done almost anything including not barging into the tent of two people who (up until very recently) had been battling crazy amounts of sexual tension and near death experiences on the regular. People knew this. People knew not to just barge in. It was a rookie move and Miller never made rookie moves except he had been incredibly off his game today because of these two people.   
  
"Bellamy!" Clarke shrieked and whether it was in climax or terror and awareness that they'd been interrupted Miller didn't know and didn't care but his shock didn't seem to kick in the proper fight or flight reflex. Instead, his brain malfunctioned like this morning, and he was stuck to the spot, Bellamy's naked back in front of him, positioned above Clarke in the very typical way of orgasm fun. It felt like he spent an hour standing uncomfortably, his traitorous brain processing what he'd walked into incredibly slow. He finally closed his eyes tight.   
  
"Miller, what the fuck?" Bellamy yelled still over Clarke, though at this point it was definitely to shield her naked body from his eyes (and Miller was grateful for that.) His tone wasn't even mad, it was a mixture of shock and embarrassment, no doubt remembering what happened this morning.  

“I was just going to...I have to...I’m gonna go throw up,” Miller said, he turned quickly and bumped into Monty who was right behind him, just as wide eyed.

“Shit,” Monty said before Miller grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the tent. “That was like seeing my parents or something, I don’t think I even want you to kiss me for at least 24 hours. I have to get rid of that sight. Why did I follow you?”

Miller scrubbed his eyes and snorted. “This is a disaster and it just keeps getting worse. I suggest we run away, build a treehouse, and live out the rest of our days far away from them.”

“Good plan. There’s no other way. I will never be able to speak to Clarke or Bellamy again. Did you see his ass?”

Miller shook his head and made a horrified face. “Were you checking out his ass his?”

“No! It was just...right there, and it was... _jarring_ ,” Monty explained.

“You two,” Clarke shouted coming from the tent, fully dressed now at least. They looked at each other, Miller gestured with his head that they might escape to the left, but Monty was looking over his shoulder, biting his lip and eyes worried. Dammit. Time to face the music.

“I don’t know what has happened beyond...well,” Clarke cleared her throat, “That, but you two are going to head over to the Dropship. There’s a-”

“We need to gather all the scrap metal there,” Bellamy interrupted her as he came out of the tent, cool and in control like he wasn’t just caught in the act. “Raven needs it, Miller, you’re in charge, take two others, probably Olsen and Monroe should be available. It’s gonna be an all day thing. Work through tomorrow and come back in the evening.”   
  
Miller sighed relieved at the prospect of not being around Bellamy or Clarke for the next 24 hours at least.

“You don’t need us for the thing?” Monty asked. Miller mouthed no at him and thankfully he got it. “Never mind. Yeah. We’ll get all the scrap metal. All of it.”   
  
Miller clapped Monty on the back and started to push him away. They could pack their bags and get the hell out of this awkward situation quickly.

“What are we going to do with all that scrap metal when they bring it back?” Miller heard Clarke ask Bellamy.

“Fuck if I know, but I can’t look them in the eyes right now.”


End file.
